


Those Left Behind

by vienn_peridot



Series: Orders Up [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: AU: Merformer, Heavy Angst, Mild Gore, Other, fall of praxus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hours was all it took.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunnySidesofBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/gifts).



> This fic was commissioned by SunnySidesofBlue.  
> It was a pleasure working with you, that you so much for commissioning me!
> 
> Playlist for this fic can be found [[here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLa4dHNUTgZ6P-wrIqeCsZwM_00FWbWM3J)]  
> [The Throne is Mine] Ramin Djawadi, [Pugna Infinita] Kajiura Yuki, [Absolute Configuration] Kajiura Yuki, [Getting Away with Murder] Papa Roach, [Battle Cry] Imagine Dragons, [Reek] Ramin Djawadi, [What have you Done] Within Temptation, [King of the North] Ramin Djawadi, [Dracarys] Ramin Djawadi.
> 
> In this AU mer!Prowl and the rest of Praxus Pod are tropical Mer that look like some variant of Lionfish or Betta Mer.

It was a gorgeous day.

The Mer of Praxus Pod rested in the shallows of their favourite atoll safe haven, a large shallow lagoon surrounded and shielded from cold ocean currents by a rock and coral barrier, waters warmed by the tropical sun. The younglings found easy prey amongst the rocks, learning and refining the skills they would need to survive.

Prowl was enjoying the warmth and peace of the day, sunning himself as dozens of cleaner shrimp moved through his elegant fins. He was feeling relaxed and lazy; the gentle ministrations of the shrimp as they removed dead skin, old scales and parasites too small for the claws of his kin to catch soothed him, lulling the large black-and-white Mer into a doze as they worked. He stretched and rolled slowly, full fins flowing with the motion of his body, giving the little creatures better access to his pelvic fins. His own low purring and the quiet rustling of the cleaner shrimp filled the sea around him, easily masking the sound of low-idling motors.

Like so many others, Prowl didn't hear the boats approaching. His first warning was when the chirping of curious pups and younglings turned into the strident sound of alarm calls.

The revving of high-powered engines heralded the end of Praxus Pod.

Engines and boats… there were several boats, Prowl knew, but the way they skimmed and sliced and spun to cut patterns across the surface confused him, thwarting his attempts to count. His brain refused to hold an image of the identifying colours and patterns on their hulls. Not that he could see them for long, not with the way they doubled back as they darted after the terrified Mer of Praxus Pod.

Chasing down terrified Mer and churning the once-clear water into a maelstrom of bubbles and sand and fear.

Shock and confusion had Prowl in their clutches. He was frozen, still and silent as the cleaner shrimp scurried away. His mind raced, trying desperately to figure out what was happening and _why_.

Then the screaming started.

The first pained cry that ripped through the water jolted Prowl from his stupor, spurring the black-and-white Mer into action.

He _knew_ that voice, just as he recognised the others that joined it in a chorus of agony as he shot through the cloudy water, wishing desperately for the echolocation abilities possessed by the smooth-skinned Mer from colder waters. He couldn’t see properly, quickly losing his bearings and becoming disoriented as he darted after first one voice and then another, trying to reach his kin.

 _I don’t_ understand _. What are they_ doing _to us?_ Why _are they doing this to us?_

A flicker in the cloudy water. Prowl braked instinctively and pulled up, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with Smokescreen as the sleek white-and-blue form dove below him with a panicked screech, fins scraping painfully along the softer skin of Prowl’s belly. Smokescreen’s young offspring, Bluestreak, was nowhere to be seen. They must have become separated in the chaos. Unable to turn and follow the panicking Mer, Prowl lurched upwards at an angle and rocketed towards the surface with powerful strokes of his tail.

His head broke water.

And Prowl _saw_.

He saw young humans on fast boats tearing in mad circles across the surface of Praxus Pod’s safe haven, laughing and smiling and shouting to one-another as they harried and chased his friends and family like orca playing with a raft of penguins.

He watched as someone with a net captured a slow-moving pup, holding the shrieking infant suspended in mid-air. Tiny arms waved, reaching desperately for the water, for the parent Prowl knew wouldn’t be far away. No pup that young was _ever_ allowed out of a parent’s sight, not even in this lagoon.

 _Why are they_ doing _this?_

Something hit Prowl and faster than thought he dove, abandoning the horrors of the surface. Something rough and hard tore at his flowing dorsal fin and he barely registered the narrow band of rope sliding through his field of vision as the terror of _propellers_ sent him deep into the murky water.

There were so many boats moving so unpredictably that when combined with the poor visibility it was nearly impossible for a Mer to tell where a boat was until it was right on top of them. Safer to go deep and avoid the surface altogether.

Not that the Mer of Praxus could, in their shallow atoll lagoon.

There was blood in the water now; Prowl could taste it. At least one Mer of Praxus had already run afoul of those propellers. He saw bright pieces of someone’s fin sliding past and shuddered, swallowing a shriek as he rolled to avoid it.

There were enough screams ringing through the water. He wasn’t going to add his own if he could help it.

Prowl was over the rock-floored part of the lagoon now, where the basalt foundation of the atoll was visible below him. There was less sand to be stirred up so Prowl took advantage of the sudden increase in visibility, desperately searching for someone, _anyone_. Above him the large shadow of a boat deliberately ran down the shape of a struggling Praxus Mer and Prowl looked away, retching as the sounds reached him.

The thud, the agonised shriek torn from a dying Mer throat, the laughter of the humans as they revelled in their sport.

 _It’s a game to them. Killing us… it’s just a_ game _._

Sudden rage filled Prowl and he turned, shooting up through the blood-tainted water of what had once been Praxus Pod’s secret safe haven, aiming himself at the boat that hung overhead.

He blasted from the water like a torpedo, catching himself on the railing of the boat and swiping at the nearest human with bared claws and a murderous hiss. They were distracted, all the humans of this particular boat gathered around something crumpled on the deck. While he pulled his prey closer, Prowl’s curious eyes slipped to the battered _thing_ lying on the deck for a single fatal second.

_No…_

This new horror cost Prowl the ability to defend himself as the other human left their victim and surged to the defence of the being in his claws, abandoning the shattered body that had only moments before been one of Prowl’s podmates.

Light flashed and bit at Prowl, bright metal shaped and worked by human hands slicing into his flesh. He released his prey as if it was toxic, shoving himself violently away from the boat. Pressing his hands to his wounds, he tried to lose himself in the murky water.

The screaming was trailing off now; the humans had made massive inroads on the population of Praxus Pod. Their quiet atoll lagoon where they had sunned as pups played was now a place of meaningless slaughter. What the humans had started the sea itself would finish; all too soon Prowl knew that this place would become a silent mausoleum as scavengers and opportunistic predators moved in to clean up.

Something bit at Prowl’s ragged tailfins, driving him to surface again. He was just in time to see the first boat slip into the narrow channel that provided the only access to the atoll lagoon.

 _They’re leaving_.

It was safe to call out now.

Prowl did so, forcing sounds from a throat almost closed by fear.

Weak voices returned his desperate calls. Too weak, too few.

The heartbreaking sounds of injured and dying Mer became Prowl’s entire world. He started after the closest voice, changing direction time and time again as each one fell silent before he could reach anybody. His increasingly desperate calls pierced the low moans and keening sobs that filled the water.

Then even those last incoherent pain-filled voices began to fall silent, fading out one by one to leave the ocean deathly quiet.

Prowl floated on the surface, watching the gulls circle high above. Not even the distinctive outline of shark fins could rouse him; despair and blood loss drained him and the horrible silence marking the end of Praxus Pod gave him no reason to live.

 _My turn soon, then I’ll be with them again_.

He knew it wouldn’t be long now. His wounds had clotted but he had no energy to defend himself, no desire to survive when everything he had known and everyone he had loved had been annihilated in such a callous and brutal way for the entertainment of humans.

Then a terrified shriek pierced the water.

Prowl almost thought he had imagined it, but then another came, sounding so painfully young that he couldn’t help himself. He rolled, startling the small flock of gulls that had been approaching him and diving, moving sluggishly in the direction of that solitary voice. His entire body ached, wounds pulling and opening to bleed anew as he followed the improbable sound of a terrified youngling.

There, pinned to the coral wall of the atoll by a harpoon through his tail, was a tiny form he knew all too well.

 _Bluestreak_.

Ironically, the harpoon had probably saved the youngster’s life.

There were two small sharks attempting to take chunks out of the little blue-and-silver Mer, their attempts being consistently foiled by the way Bluestreak’s desperate thrashing moved the long shaft of the weapon around, blocking the predators as they moved in.

Wide, terrified eyes found Prowl and he forced his aching body into motion once more.

Driving off the sharks was nearly impossible in his state but somehow Prowl managed it. Sheer desperation and Bluestreak’s terrified shrieks giving him the energy he needed to beat them back, hissing and slashing and flaring the tattered shreds of his once-glorious fins, sending them in search of easier meat. There was plenty of it in the sheltered lagoon, for which Prowl was grateful.

Then he remembered the origin of that meat.

His throat was tight as he turned to face his small cousin, trying to force a comforting croon from vocal cords that resisted such use. Wide blue eyes were fixed on Prowl, chubby silver-grey hands reached for him as little Bluestreak pleaded for his help in desperate, hiccupping chirps of sound.

Moving on autopilot, Prowl carefully worked the harpoon loose from the coral wall of the atoll, murmuring a low apology when he saw the backwards-facing hooks on the head. He took a deep breath of blood-scented water and _shoved_ hard on the harpoon, forcing it through the thick flesh of Bluestreak’s tail.

A shrill scream pierced the water and Prowl pulled the young Mer close, muffling Bluestreak’s sobs in his neck as he scanned the slowly-clearing waters in case the cry of pain had attracted unwanted attention.

Small arms wound choking-tight around his neck, the little silver-and-blue youngling tightened his grip and whimpered when Prowl tried to pry him off.

_What am I going to do with you, little one?_

Crooning soothingly, Prowl wrapped one arm around Bluestreak and reached for the harpoon with the other. He shuddered when his fingers touched the smooth material of the shaft but he forced himself to pick the disgusting thing up.

There was nobody else left, no pod to defend Bluestreak.

It would have to be Prowl.

Prowl was weak, injured and alone. He would need to use everything he possibly could to keep this small one alive and that included the revolting human weapon.

All senses on alert, Prowl skirted the edge of the lagoon, keeping the youngling’s blue-crested head pressed into the crook of his neck to spare Bluestreak as much as he could of the nightmare scene being revealed by the clearing waters.

The sound of gulls fighting was the only thing to reach Prowl’s ears as he gathered quick handfuls of broad-leaf stickweed to bandage their wounds with. Apart from that there was nothing but a deathly, unnatural silence that chilled him to the core and made him wish the human’s knife had hit something vital.

Then his mostly silent blue-and-silver passenger whimpered, hugging him tighter.

Making a comforting rumbling sound, Prowl nuzzled small blue headfins and reluctantly turned his thoughts towards survival. Bluestreak couldn’t survive without help; Prowl was all he had left. The only other Praxus Mer left.

Prowl had no choice.

He had to live, if only for the only other survivor of Praxus.

This hadn’t been Praxus Pod’s only safe haven, but it had been their favourite. Now it was populated only by ghosts; the last place in the oceans Prowl wanted to be if he couldn’t join the rest of the Pod in death. There were other places nearby where two injured Mer could rest and feed and try to recover, so long as they kept a sharp lookout for predators.

Not ideal, but it would do.

With Bluestreak clinging tightly to him, Prowl slipped quietly from the sheltered waters that had become the graveyard of Praxus Pod and into open water, swimming slowly towards life.


End file.
